


glitter

by mxkeclemmings



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Hurt Michael, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Michael, Stripper Michael, idk - Freeform, kind of, luke saves michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxkeclemmings/pseuds/mxkeclemmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which michael is a stripper that doesn't want to be, luke is the saving grace in michael's life, and it all starts with michael getting hurt while stripping...</p>
            </blockquote>





	glitter

**Author's Note:**

> this is the intro.... hope you like it....??

Michael stretched his legs, one up on the table beside him as he reached his small hands to the cold floor. He groaned slightly at the ache in his legs from last night’s show. The cold concrete floors were cold on his fingers as he adjusted his body into the splits. The floor was covered in sequins and glitter and discarded fish nets and feathers and other flashy things Michael couldn't bring himself to examine further. The lights above him flashed and there was a knock at the door. Michael sighed. 

Michael stood up slowly, cracking his back as he went. He looked in the mirror at his tired eyes that were surrounded by sparkly pink glitter. Makeup was no match for the bags under his eyes. He carded his hand through his messy hair, trying to get it to go the way he wanted. He quickly sprayed his hair with a spare can of spray on the table.

“Hurry up, kid. You're on in five,” his handler yelled from the door. Michael drummed his knuckles on the dressing room table once before shuffling towards the heavy door. His handler was there to meet him as he opened it to the hallway, and he immediately grabbed Michael’s shoulders and began pulling him down the hallway. 

“The crowd’s waiting, princess,” the man said and Michael shuddered at the nickname. They walked briskly down the long hallway, passing that kid Calum on the way. They were friends, Michael liked to think. They talked sometimes and Calum had even bought Michael coffee once. Calum was a college student looking for money to pay off loans and all that shit Michael never bothered to wrap his mind around. He was a good kid. 

Calum winked at Michael as he passed with his own handler, playfully reaching out and patting Michael on the bum. 

“Go get em, tiger,” he said playfully, his soft smile not quite reaching his eyes. Michael’s lips turned up slightly at the boy and nodded his head. Calum knew Michael didn't want to be there. He was trying to get his spirits up. He was a good kid. 

Michael eventually reached the curtains at the back of the stage. Slipping the robe of his frail shoulders, Michael rolled his shoulders, and he shivered slightly at the chilly air of the backstage area. He bent down to adjust the straps on his six inch heels and his handler whistled appreciatively as the tight fabric of his shorts stretched obscenely around his butt. Michael shot up immediately, pulling the shorts as far down his thighs as they would allow. He felt the man step behind him and grab his hips. 

“Aw, no need to be bashful, princess,” he whispered huskily in Michael’s ear. “That’s not the attitude I want coming from a whore like you.” 

Michael shut his eyes tight. Shaking his head slightly and trying to move away from the muscled arms encasing his waist. 

“Give em a good show, slut.” 

Michael was suddenly pushed through the curtains and onto the stage. He stumbled slightly under the harsh lighting of the stage lights, but he quickly regained his balance as the music began blasting a catchy pop tune throughout the club. Michael hated the music. This was the kind of stuff he’d rather die than listen to. He once had dreams of being in a band—one that made real music. But of course, life is tough, and being in a famous band was a frivolous dream that was unrealistic and stupid. So becoming a stripper at a dirty gay bar in downtown Sydney is where he found himself because he needed to eat somehow. 

Michael brought his hand to his chest, dry palm rubbing across his nipples and down his stomach before stopping at the waste band of his shiny short shorts. He rolled his hips before sauntering his way over to the pole at the center of the stage. The men in the audience cheered the entire time and Michael could feel all the eyes on him and it made him feel sick. 

Towards the end of his set, Michael walked his way to the edge of the stage, allowing dollar bills to be roughly pushed into the shorts. Nothing was out of the usual—he did this at every show. But soon one hand that had slipped a twenty into the tight waistband grabbed his crotch, which was strictly not allowed. Touching the dancers sexually was off limits. Michael tried to bat the man’s hand away but the man only grabbed tightly to his small wrist. 

Why isn't anyone coming to help me? Michael thought as the man tugged roughly at his wirst. Michael struggled to get free of the tight hold but his opponent was much stronger than he was. The man gave a strong pull and Michael’s body was suddenly flying towards the audience as the man let go of his wrist, letting him fall harshly to the sticky floor of the club at least five feet below him. 

Pain immediately erupted in his left leg and arm. His head bounced against the concrete and it was on fire. He could feel a wet, sticky substance—warm beer? blood?— rolling down his forehead. He felt hands on him, groping him. The hands grabbed everywhere: his thighs, his ass, his hair. Michael was going to throw up, whether it be from the pain or the absolute humiliation and dirtiness he felt at that moment. He cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggled to get up, to get out of the incriminating clammy hands surrounding him. He couldn't breath. 

Just as the world was starting to dim, his vision tunneling, he felt strong hands grab his shoulders, hauling him upwards. He was pulled tightly against someone’s chest, and if Michael had anything left in him he’d probably start to struggle. He didn't know who this person was or what his intentions were and that scared Michael. 

Hands were still trying to pull him in every direction, hands were still grabbing at him, but whoever’s grasp he was in wasn't let anyone take him away. The stranger began moving him, hefting him up in his arms and carrying him towards the exit of the club. He didn't know whether this was a bad thing or a good thing. 

Michael’s thought process was scattered, disoriented as he felt unconsciousness tug at him again. Darkness creeped at the edge of his vision as the person pushed at the door. 

Michael was out as soon as the cold air hit his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to update. it takes me a fucking long time though oops. also ill probably edit this at some point because it sucks but i wanted to post something so here i am.


End file.
